The Problem with God "That which people call 'God' is not God" (opening line from Lao Tse's "Tao Te
Ching", my paraphrase). The number of people who understand this is vanishingly small.
Whether we profess to believe or disbelieve in God (or a God) most of
us don't actually know what we are talking about. And to the extent that we
believe that we do, we are a danger to ourselves and to the human society
in general. Junior High Stuff: Homer Today Schrödinger's Cat
Saved Everybody has heard about Schrödinger's cat.
You haven't? OK, everybody else please be patient while I retell the tale
for your benefit. Schrödinger was a physicist with a macabre turn of mind. To
illustrate how silly quantum mechanics really is he proposed the following
experiment: put a cat in a black box you can't see inside. Together with the
cat, put in a can of poisonous gas equipped with a mechanism which will
release the gas if it gets a signal from a radiation detector which is
pointed at a low intensity radioactive source.
A Means to an
End
February 1,
2012
I am nature's means of appreciating
itself. That is the conclusion I have come to after a careful consideration of the
question "what and why am I?".
If the object of existence is joy, and
it's either that or nothing, then what is chiefly needed is a mechanism for
experiencing joy. That would be consciousness. As such, consciousness has to be
there right from the beginning (if any) as an intrinsic characteristic of existence.
Furthermore, the evolution of the universe has to be ultimately directed towards
organizing consciousness to maximize its capacity for experiencing joy. I, Paul Wyszkowski, am
just one such lump of organized consciousness by means of which the
universe may enjoy itself.
Now, it has not escaped my attention
that the universe is not enjoying itself maximally everywhere and everywhen.
There are, evidently, puddles (and sometimes oceans) of pain, misery and
desperation scattered throughout conscious experience. And where joy is
actually being experienced its quality is variable and
transitory.
This is where we
must pay the devil
its due. Logic tells us that evil, defined as whatever
is destructive or obstructive to the maximal experience of joy, is inevitable and as
much part of existence as is consciousness. Existence is a process, that
is, a succession of changes. The thing about change is that it is
always at least to some extent unpredictable - unpredictability is the essence of genuine change. Because
of this there can be no guarantee that change will
be constructive to the experiencing of joy. Hence the inevitability of
evil.
However, there is a
saving grace and its name is probability. Probability, the degree to which
change can be predicted, can be seen as a consequence of intentionality
inherent in the universe. Experience shows that probabiities of
future events can indeed be influenced by conscious intent. However,
probability cannot be controlled absolutely - where there is change there is
necessarily uncertainty. Probability can only be influenced statistically
over a large number of events. This is sufficient to make
possible molding the future intentionally to enhance the universal
experience of joy.
More highly organized consciousness can be potentially more effective at influencing how the
universe unfolds. However, to be effective consciousness must be focused on the object
of its desire and pay close attention to what choices may
be optimal under given circumstances. We cannot, in any case, completely avoid evil. We can
only minimize it. (On the other hand, inattention can
greatly magnify evil's destructive effects).
So, bottom line, it seems that my job, my raison
d'être as an instance of organized
consciousness, is this: to assist in maximizing the universe's self-appreciation and self-enjoyment. With
that understanding I can commit to this project wholeheartedly, keeping
in mind that it is not a zero sum game and cannot be
achieved by exterminating evil (that, fortunately, is impossible) but by making creative use
of it. Evidently, we absolutely need an adversary to keep us surprised,
challenged, changing and evolving. Our wellbeing and our ability to
enjoy the world (in both the transitive and intransitive sense) depend on
it.
Paul Wyszkowski
The Romantic
Universe
January 5,
2012
The five
conventional points of view long established in the theatre (and in literature in general) are
the tragic, the comic, the romantic, the "realistic" and
the "naturalistic". Although plays and
novels typically use some blend of these they are customarily classified according to the
dominant one.
In a tragedy, a character's
personal desire is rigidly set
as the absolute with which the world must be compelled to comply. The inevitable
and irreversible result is that the world as it
actually is prevails and the protagonist is destroyed in the
process.
In a comedy there is a learning process -
the clash of desire and reality is not fatal but rather transforming,
leading to a satisfactory resolution.
In a romance the assumption is that our intentionality
can change the world, at least to some degree, and that the
future can
be molded closer to the heart's true desire (which in a
romance is usually assumed to be intrinsically trustworthy).
In a "realistic" play the world
is assumed to be indifferent to the protagonists' desires - achieving their
objectives is to a large extent a matter of pure chance.
In a
"naturalistic" play the world is assumed to be actually hostile to the
protagonist - it's war. The protagonist must battle the world to achieve desired
objectives, or just to stay alive.
These are all particular points
of view and each captures some aspect of the truth of the human condition. But I
believe the most realistic of them is the romantic point of view.
Both the "realistic" and the "naturalistic"
conventions set up an artificial duality between the protagonist and the
rest of the world which I consider to be unreal. After all, the protagonist
absolutely belongs to the world as an inseparable part of it
subject to the same laws of nature as the whole. The conflict is not between the
protagonist and the rest of the world but between different perceptions and
interpretations of the world. Tragedy depends on the luciferian
premise of absolute pride which is intrinsically unrealistic and doomed to
fail. Comedy is somewhat more realistic in that it allows for change and
evolution but its optimism is often unwarranted. It is romance that
offers room for genuine hope even though without guarantees which, I
believe, most accurately reflects the nature of the world as it
is.
Paul Wyszkowski
For better and for worse, words are sufficiently
fuzzy and slippery to ensure that what we say we believe (or disbelieve) is not an accurate
representation of what we actually do believe at the level of feelings where
what we believe matters. When we are being true to ourselves (which is
admittedly seldom) we act not in conformity with our words which, in
any case, we only think we understand, but with our feelings which we know
absolutely. Of course, our feelings are often in conflict with one
another but that's another story. (By the way, one fundamental object of prayer is to discover what
it is we truly feel and desire).
The ideas of God (and there are a
great many of them out there) are, essentially, metaphors for what we feel to be
true. However, words cannot convey fully or accurately what we feel
and what we feel is only a partial perception of reality from a particular point
of view. As Lao Tse wisely observed, what we say we mean by "God" is not what we
actually mean by "God" and what we actually mean by "God" is not God. Which
is not to say that it is not some kind of an inkling of God, one that may
well suffice for our circumstances. Indeed, we neither can nor
should nor need to understand God completely which would require becoming
God ourselves (something that may or may not be our final destiny). For the
record, my own idea of God is not as the object but as the origin
of our truest desire, leaving plenty
of room for a debate about what that is.
Not believing in God is exactly
equivalent to believing in God. It's a matter of defining "God" (what is it that
you believe or not believe in?) and all definitions of God are
necessarily false if only because they are
necessarily incomplete. The best we can do is to associate God
with being itself (thus reducing the argument against the "existence
of God" to an argumant against existence itself which is absurd coming from
an existing being). What matters is whether we believe that being is
good (i.e., has value and meaning) or not (i.e., has no value and
no meaning). This matters because it influences directly our
capacity for enjoyment of life, individually and as a society.
Generally, we'd rather enjoy life than not and that's why we are virtually all
of us believers (including most of those who label themselves
"atheists").
The lamest argument against existence of God is that
God is merely a product of wishful thinking. Actually, our wishful thinking, our desires, including the
primary desire to enjoy our being (however distorted by ignorance and irrational beliefs) are probably the clearest manifestation of divine
presence.
Paul
Wyszkowski
November 5, 2011
Among the
cognoscenti Homer is considered the
greatest poet ever. As I see it, his greatness lies in his brilliantly accurate
observation and compelling rendition of characters in action, not
in his philosophical insights. He is a reliable and vivid reporter rather
than an interpreter of or a commentator on the facts of life.
As for
the facts, the Illiad concerns itself with a single theme, the personal quarrel
between two tribal warrior-kings, Achilles and Agamemnon, which threatens
to doom the Greeks' prospects for victory in their ten year old war with
Troy. Their quarrel is, as a reviewer of a recent translation of the Illiad put
it, "junior high stuff". (Actually, he said it isn't but it is, it
is).
Achilles and Agamemnon are jocks
who are also spoiled brats. They inhabit a culture which worships jocks and
encourages, even insists on their self-aggrandizement. Athletic ability and
physical bravery are the highest values (besides tribal loyalty) and are
maximally rewarded. Thus a celebrity jock's personal possessions, his loot,
including female slaves (especially female slaves - great sex was a very
important part of the reward) represent the measure of his standing and
success as a celebrity jock. Our heroes' famous and furious quarrel (which shakes up heaven and
litters earth with corpses) is, in fact, over a captive Trojan girl they both
claim as their just reward.
You may be noticing parallels here
with our own mass culture which is not essentially different from
that of the ancient Greeks. Hence the continuing relevance of Homer (ironically largely unappreciated
by those whom it most concerns because of lack -
or perhaps impossibility - of a good vernacular translation).
What is different today is that,
first of all, we number several billion vs. several million in Homer's time; we
have developed several socially revolutionary technologies (chemical,
biological, nuclear, and digital); and, most significant of all, we have among
us individuals whose depth of understanding of the world in general and humanity
in particular exceeds that of any preceeding thinkers and philosophers.
That is not to say we have all - or any - answers to the fundamental existential
questions. However, some few of us have a better grasp of what these
questions might be and how various proposed answers might play out in
real life.
In other
words, we are better equipped, technologically, intellectually, and - dare I say? -
spiritually to enjoy our lives if that's what
we want. Unfortunately, most of us are not even as clear as a typical ancient Greek in
our self-understanding. We have, in general, failed to use our considerable present advantages to
improve the quality of our lives to a level significantly higher than those of
Homer's contemporaries whose lives (like most of ours) were indeed junior high stuff, gods not
excepted.
Paul Wyszkowski
October 13,
2011
Now the thing about radioactivity is that it is an
absolutely random process. The source (which could be a speck
of radioactive uranium, for example) will emit particles of radiation now and then at
unpredictable intervals. The next emission might be a second from now or a
week from now. There is absolutely no way to tell. (For a higher intensity source the average interval
will be shorter but still unpredictable). So once the cat
is in the box there's no way to figure out whether it is already dead or still alive other
than actually looking in the box.
What did Schrödinger have against cats? I
don't know but his proposed experiment certainly gained him a lot of notoriety.
As I said, everybody's heard about Schrödinger's cat. Except
you.
Actually, this is not at all about the cat (in an even deeper sense,
as I will show, than Schrödinger knew). What Schrödinger tried to illustrate
with his grisly experiment is a problem with quantum mechanics which asserts
(rightly enough) that an unpredictable event remains unpredictable until
it is observed. That seems perfectly commonsensical but Schrödinger asked,
well, what about the cat? Once we open the box we can observe that it is either dead
or alive. But until we do that, what is the status of the cat
inside te box? Whether it dies or lives is absolutely unpredictable
so, according to quantum mechanics, until
actually observed the cat must be both dead and alive or, rather,
neither.
You have no idea the
amount of furious scientific and philosohical debate Schrödinger's question precipitated.
It went on for decades and is still being debated (Schrödinger first asked
it way back in early 20th century). It all hinges on one highly conceited (and
unwarranted) assumption that all scientists and philosophers insist on making, apparently
without exception. The universal assumption is that an "observation" requires a
human observer, or, to be exact, human consciousness.
Actually,
as some bright readers
might have already figured out, in Schrödinger's contraption the observer of first
instance is the radiation detector. The detector "knows" at all times
whether a particle of radiation has been emitted or not. The rest of the paraphernalia, the poison
releasing mechanism, the cat and the box are all irrelevant. The detector may not
know whether the cat is alive or dead but it knows whether a
signal went out to the poison releasing mechanism or not. It
does not matter that the observer is not human - it knows what it observes because it
has been designed to know and to act on this
knowledge.
So there is no reason to assume that the cat is at any
time at once neither dead nor alive. Quantum mechanics does
not require that. The quantum mechanical aspects of this
experiment end with the observation by the radiation detector. Everything after that is, for practical
purposes, perfectly determinate. No need to risk killing the cat,
even hypothetically.
Paul
Wyszkowski
September 10,
2011
Here is my thesis: without uncertainty there can be no
change and therefore no time. In this essay I show its logical necessity
and surprising consequences. It turns out uncertainty is not only a
necessary condition of existence but also of a life worth
living.
Let us assume the opposite of
my thesis is true, that is,
that there is absolutely nothing uncertain about the universe and all it entails. That
means all of it must be completely known and determined because our postulate
states that there neither is nor can be anything about the universe that is
unknown and therefore uncertain. Such a universe without
any uncertainty is necessarily a static universe, forever fixed in its form and
properties. It cannot change - there is no way for it to change. It is what
it is, a single eternal instant, if indeed it can be said to exist at
all. (A changeless universe is unobservable because there are no events to be
observed - nothing is happening - so there is no evidence of its
existence.)
I conclude from the above that for a universe to exist,
change and evolve, some aspects of it must necessarily remain unknown and
therefore uncertain.
Our actual experience of the universe suggests that
there is no one specific property of the universe that is intrinsically unknowable. However, when we try
to determine exactly some particular property we find we cannot simultaneously determine some
other complementary property (vis. the Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle).
This makes sense. It would be strange if
some particular properties of the universe were arbitrarily singled
out for unknowability. This way there is a democracy of unknowability with degrees
of unknowability symmetrically balanced among the various properties of the universe (the
more we know about one the less we can
know about the other). Thus the universe can change and evolve
without any particular aspect of it being absolutely unknowable even though
as a whole it remains, as it must, indeterminate.
Of course, only in
a changing, evolving universe time (and, for that matter, space) can have
a meaning. Time is a sequence of observed events, that is, changes in state of
the universe. So is space. We measure out space by the number of events between
here and there just as we measure out time by the number of events between now
and then. It's just a matter of direction with the one distinction that
the direction of time seems irreversible. There is a good reason for that:
the uncertainty which makes change possible is resolved once a
change has ocurred. It becomes a certain fact and cannot be made
uncertain again.
Actually, movement in space is also irreversible but because
of apparent lack of change in seemingly stable spacial environment
we fail to notice this irreversibility. In fact, we can never return to
the place we started from. But that's another story.
The inherent and
necessary uncertainty of the future of an evolving universe has one
consequence of colossal significance to us humans: it allows for the
possibility of consciously shaping the yet unformed future closer to
our heart's desire. Without that life would be pointless.
Paul
Wyszkowski
A Significant Life
September 2, 2011
Significant in what way and to
whom?
This question points to the conditional nature of significance
as a quality of a life. It is not necessarily a positive one. For better or
worse, wealth, power and fame confer a great deal of significance upon a life.
On the other hand, even for those leading a life of
solitude their self-regard can be the bene- or maleficiary of
their perception of life's significance.
Is maximum public significance, as some believe, something to strive for as
the main objective of our lives? Given the relativity of the value of
significance (which can be positive or negative, it being a matter of opinion
which) I cannot see it as the fundamental measure of
the value of a life. Rather I see it as an important but largely incidental
and circumstantial byproduct of a life. (I believe that the fundamental
objective of life - and being in general - is joy rather than significance
but that's another story).
Thus I find that my own publicly
insignificant life is not without value. Actually, I deeply appreciate my life.
It is highly significant to me. I sometimes wish it were more generally
significant to the benefit of some of the many less fortunate who might possibly
learn from my example. But then there are innumerable highly
significant lives out there, both historical and contemporary, from which many
(including me) have drawn and continue to draw inspiration and which
offer far better examples than mine.
However, in
concluding from this (essentially correctly) that I therefore need not
concern myself with public significance or insignificance of my life I
should not disregard the need to pay attention to the occasional opportunities
for my life to become more significant to others (in a good way). Such
opportunities do arise from time to time and to deliberately ignore them would
be life denying.
Then
there are all those sociable high energy
individuals for whom actively seeking out such opportunities constitutes
the very meaning of their lives. Their definitions of "a good way" vary
but, in any case, significance is generally a secondary
consideration.
Paul Wyszkowski
September is the perfect occasion to set sail on a sea of thought concerning significance. The launch of another school year and the first red leaves below the maple tree bring Pogo’s whither and wherefore to mind.
I think your choice for joy has a lot of merit. Looking for significance in everything makes me debate the dance of what this being called me brings to the party and what tune the fates as piper play. Whether foxtrot, tango or waltz it sometimes has the sense of truly reeling. That’s the Omar Khayam effect.
When young I did eagerly frequent doctor and
saint
And heard great argument about it and
about
But evermore came out by the same
door
As in I went.
There is a warning note in that but when touched by art or argument the transformation, if only the softening of a judgment, feels true.
We often go to the pool of your photo reflections to dream or laugh or sigh and smile. The scent of your significance lies there.
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Archived Essays
Contents (click title to retrieve, close file to
return to this page):
1.Art: What's Truth,
Beauty and Goodness Got to Do with It? (May 20,
2002)
2. Art as Language (August
12,2003)
3.How to Deal with
Art (October 24, 2004)
4.Where Order Meets
Chaos (September 2, 2005)
5.And the Winner
is... (February 14,2006)
6.Photography and
Art (March 30, 2006)
7.What Good Are
Pictures That Don't Change? (May 29,
2007)
8.The Rationale for
Religion (July 22, 2011)
9. If a Tree Fell in
a Forest... (August 4, 2011)